


It's a terrible life

by vogue91



Category: Hey! Say! JUMP, Johnny's Entertainment
Genre: Angst, Introspection, M/M, Self-Harm, Suicide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-01
Updated: 2018-07-01
Packaged: 2019-05-31 17:56:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15124838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vogue91/pseuds/vogue91
Summary: He cut.Once, twice.He cut, and the razor never seemed to go deep enough.He cried.The sweat mixed with the tears down his face, and he couldn’t even look in the mirror, he didn’t want to see that deformed face, he didn’t want to see himself like that.





	It's a terrible life

He cut.

Once, twice.

He cut, and the razor never seemed to go deep enough.

He cried.

The sweat mixed with the tears down his face, and he couldn’t even look in the mirror, he didn’t want to see that deformed face, he didn’t want to see himself like that.

He couldn’t help it.

One cut, the anxious wait to see the blood surfacing from the wound, to see it run down his arm and stain the floor, and then he felt empty again, and he needed to see more of it, in a cycle that he didn’t know how to end.

Why did it have to be like this?

Why couldn’t he stop?

He grabbed a small towel carelessly placed on the sink’s edge, and looked for a moment at the stains on it before resting it on his arm, pressing, hurting himself, trying to get as cleaned as he could.

But it was impossible.

He looked at his marked skin, covered in wounds which masked the scars beneath them, and it still seemed like he hadn't caused himself enough pain.

He put the razor back on his upper arm, cutting himself deeper and letting go to a chocked scream.

He clenched his eyes. And cried.

He wished the blade would’ve gotten deeper.

He wished he could’ve made a clean cut.

On his skin, on his life.

The past years, he hadn't needed much to go on.

When he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, when he thought he couldn’t bear any longer the weight of his responsibilities, he holed himself up in the first bathroom he could find and he hurt himself enough to reach the end of the day.

What he needed to keep leading his life with a smile, a fake one that he hated so much, but that he could never take off.

Because it was what they all expected from him.

And there was always someone with expectations. There was always someone telling him to do his best, almost as if it was a threat and not a wish.

There was always someone ready to be disappointed, if things wouldn’t have gone down as planned.

And he was tired. So damn tired.

He leant his head against the cold tiles, trying to cool down, trying to put an order to his thoughts.

The room around him started to blur, as he weakened from the blood loss.

He wished he could’ve closed his eyes and never having to open them again.

Not even the thought of his boyfriend, sleeping a couple of room next to the bathroom, unaware of it all, managed to stop that desire.

That love wasn’t going to save him, he knew that.

It was going to drag him even lower than he already was, showing itself as yet another thing he couldn’t live like he would've liked.

Because he had to hide everything of himself. He had to hide his bad moods, he had to hide the disappointment, the rage, what he felt.

And that wasn’t life.

He didn’t want to come back home at night and not have the strength to vent.

He didn’t want to be seen as the strong one, the one capable of facing any problem, any hardship, as if it was easy.

He wanted to scream, ask for help, he wanted for someone to finally tell him everything was going to be okay.

That was all he needed, but it made the count of the things he wasn’t allowed.

He put the razor down on his already tormented wrist.

Slowly, holding his breath, as if he wasn’t the one moving it, but a mere bystander wanting to see how this was going to end.

He dug.

And pulled.

This time, the blood came right away.

But he didn’t feel any pain. He didn’t feel a thing.

He collapsed against the wall, and waited to die.

It took time, longer than he would've liked.

And in the end he felt at the same time the door opening and his life abandoning him.

He saw Kei’s features blur in an expression of horror, he heard screaming.

And then, nothing else.


End file.
